


burning ships

by leirskald



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, No Plot/Plotless, rambling character exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:44:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leirskald/pseuds/leirskald
Summary: Nayeon should know better than to fall for the Admiral's only daughter. Mina should know better than to fall for the fearsome, sea-faring pirate with a bounty on her head.Correction: they both don't know any better.pirate!au





	1. Chapter 1

**burning ships**

‘I am not sure at all  
if love is salve  
or just  
a deeper kind of wound.  
I do not think it matters.’  
             — Erica Jong, Becoming Light: Poems New and Selected

What Nayeon likes about dating that Admiral’s daughter is just that – that she’s the Admiral’s daughter. There’s something undoubtedly tragic and star-crossed about it that Nayeon relishes. It makes everything sweeter; turns time into amber-red globules of honey so that all of it, all the time in the world, is not enough.

Nayeon slips into the open window, pushes aside the lace curtains. The kerosene lanterns lend a reddish tint to Mina’s hair, and there are moths aflutter about the flame. Mina is seated before her vanity, running a fine-toothed comb down her hair. She spies Nayeon through the mirror, watches her heft her feet over the ledge and into the room with an inaudible thud.

At Nayeon’s unapologetic grin, Mina sighs. Puts down her comb. “My father’s very angry with you.”

“When is he not?” Nayeon undoes her belt, drops it onto the table. Her sheathed daggers are left abandoned there, along with all other defences Nayeon might otherwise need when faced with disarming women.

Like Mina, for example. However, unlike with other women, Nayeon is more than happy to relieve herself of her convictions and leave them by the door. Because Mina more than compensates her for it.

Mina demonstrates her deep disapproval with a heavy frown. One that doesn’t falter or break even when faced with Nayeon’s insufferable grin that eats up half her face. Mina’s caged bird – a canary – chirps once and hops uneasily about in its ivory cage.

“I heard what you did this time,” Mina’s saying. “Why are you always stirring up trouble?”

Nayeon comes up behind her. Dark and predatory as shadows shift and slink restlessly. “Were you worried about me?”

Mina’s mouth twists unhappily. “I’m glad you’re taking this so seriously. Did you know he’s sent out a search party for you? He’s put a bounty on your head, for god’s sake!”

“Well, at least my head’s worth something.”

Nayeon braces her hand against the polished oak of Mina’s vanity, ducks her head to catch Mina’s eyes. Mina doesn’t budge. Her eyes remain displeased. And, Nayeon thinks, it must say a lot about what little autonomy Nayeon has left over her own self – body and soul – that she surrenders there as her knees hit the floor. Mina sighs, turns to trap Nayeon’s face between her hands.

“Would it be so hard to stay and earn an honest living?” Mina mumbles. Her fingers brush at Nayeon’s unruly hair, held in place with a bandana.

“Would I be me if I did?” Nayeon says.

“No,” Mina’s beginning to smile, fondly, exasperatedly. “I know you hate staying in one place for too long.”

“Plus, your father will have me executed.”

Mina laughs, and it’s as comforting to Nayeon as the sound of wind against the wide masts. “He would.”

“What a shame that would be, right?”

“You _did_ set a fleet of trading ships on fire, you know.”

“I needed a distraction,” Nayeon confesses, puts her head in Mina’s laps. “You should know, your father has guards patrolling your room.”

Mina’s dressed in a night slip, silky and soft, made of some expensive fabric imported from some far part of the world, most likely. Next to her, Nayeon looks like a ruffian, in a soiled tunic and breeches, which she is, but that’s beside the point.

“So you single-handedly took a match and gasoline to the ships.”

“Well, not single-handedly…”

“Of course. Send my regards to Momo.”

“Forget Momo. I’m here now,” Nayeon says, petulantly.

Mina lifts a brow. “So, what? You torch a sizeable portion of my father’s ships and you expect a reward?”

Nayeon looks up at her, and in the bluish, almost hazy night that befalls them, she looks child-like, a feral child raised by the ocean. Nothing like the feared pirate-captain that’s drawn the attention of the royal navy itself. Mina’s heard of her many plunders and feats, though they’ve mostly been watered down into a civil discussion over dinner that’s ‘appropriate’ for a girl’s ears. She’s heard her father downplay and exaggerate Nayeon’s unlawfulness in turns; she is either some meddling, mischief-rousing child or a she-demon of the seas.

Now, she is neither. Mina slips her hand down Nayeon’s cheek.

She asks, “What do you want?”

Nayeon smiles up at her, says, simply, “A kiss.”

Mina frowns. “That’s all? You want a kiss.”

“I only want what you’re willing to give.”

And here is where Nayeon is kind and perhaps even contradictory (what pirate cares for consent?). Mina feels her heart bloom within her, and soon she is leaning down to press a soft kiss onto Nayeon’s lips.

But maybe the heat and the humidity of the night has left her drunk, because the kiss turns hot and wet quickly. And Nayeon, the more experienced of the two, tilts her head for a better angle. Her hands scale up Mina’s bare shins. Their tongues meet. Nayeon groans into her mouth.

“Run away with me,” she pants, half-risen from the floor by the will of her love alone. “Run away with me, Mina.”

Mina indulges her. Her hands are buried in Nayeon’s greasy hair, feeling the grit of sand at her scalp when Mina’s fingernails scratch at it. “Where would we go?”

“Anywhere.”

Mina stands, takes Nayeon with her, and lets her back her up into the four-poster bed, which Nayeon does gratuitously. She’d even managed to kick off her boots.

The promise is almost lost to soft cotton sheets and goose-feather pillows, but Mina hears it loud and clear. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“And my father?”

“He can suck my cock.”

Mina’s laugh is breathless against Nayeon’s cheek. Nayeon blindly nudges at her chin, feeling her way through. “Oh, a girl after his heart.”

“I’d do all sorts of things for you, in case you didn’t know,” Nayeon tells her. A bold declaration. “I’d kill for you. Feels like I have already.”

Mina’s arms around her neck stills her in place, just so Nayeon will open her eyes to see Mina beneath her. Mina’s face is lovely; Nayeon has seen no finer work of art in all of her smuggling days. Nothing compares. The glow of the lantern makes this even more true.

“Just love me,” Mina says, quietly.

“Okay,” Nayeon acquiesces. Bends down to kiss the base of Mina’s throat.

There are crickets singing outside. It is Mina who initiates; she undoes the strings holding together the collars of Nayeon’s tunic, tugs urgently at the strings so Nayeon would get the hint.

Nayeon falters. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. What, you want to wait after marriage?” Mina teases, but she’s blushing.

Nayeon’s lips stretch into a slow grin. “Yours or mine?”

“You? A married woman? When will you ever?” Mina’s fingers tremble.

Off the shirt goes. Followed by Nayeon’s breeches. Nayeon’s blistered and salt-coarsened hands ruck up Mina’s nightdress around her thighs. Her nose skims over the sweat-damp skin of Mina’s neck. Mina sighs. Thinks of petals unfurling, of a blood-red hibiscus flower tucked above Nayeon’s left ear. And then, nothing.

Later, they lie spent on Mina’s large bed. Mina speaks first, because she can’t stand to listen to Nayeon’s wheezy breaths any longer: “My father intends to marry me to that dowager duchess’s son.”

“Not _him_ ,” Nayeon says, shifts to get comfortable with Mina’s head against her shoulder. “He looks like a stack of bricks. Doesn’t look any smarter, either.”

“He seems nice,” Mina offers, blandly.

“He’s got the personality of oatmeal. Which is to say, none at all.”

“You say that about all of my suitors.”

“Because it’s true for all of them.”

“You know what I think? I think you’re just jealous.”

“Of oatmeal?”

“No,” she slaps lightly at Nayeon’s belly. “Of my suitors.”

Nayeon chuckles, rubs at the reddening spot. “I think your suitors should be jealous of _me_. How they’d like to have you like this.”

“Sooner or later, someone will,” Mina reminds her, gently.

Nayeon’s fingers close around Mina’s wrist. Almost painfully. She turns her head to press a fierce kiss into Mina’s hair. “Not if I have something to say about it.”

“You can’t keep on burning ships for me.”

“I know that.”

“You shouldn’t have to, either.”

Nayeon pulls away briefly, eyes narrowed. She asks, “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Mina says, tracing an old, mottled scar along Nayeon’s ribs. The scar is browned with age, and an effective reminder of how perilous Nayeon’s life is. How easily she could be snatched away from Mina. And one day, she will. Pirates don’t tend to live very long and fulfilling lives. “That you shouldn’t have to risk your life for me.”

“It’s my life to risk,” Nayeon grumbles.

“Still. I’d prefer it if you didn’t die because you wanted my attention.”

“If that’s what it takes to get it.” Nayeon sits up on the bed. Mina watches her from where she lies; something akin to sadness is grasping at her heart, closing up her throat, but not quite. “It’s not too late, you know. To run away with me.”

Mina studies Nayeon’s face in silence. The flickering lamplight the colour of ripe persimmons falls cross her face. The answer is already there, in Mina’s face, and Nayeon’s expression crumples just a little. Mina’s blunt rejection has always hurt her most. She’s not sure why.

So, she nods resolutely. Gets up to dress. The moon is high in the sky outside, full and ugly. Nayeon intends to fall into a barrel-full of rum and get spectacularly drunk. Perhaps incite some revelry with Sana and Momo; those two are always up for a good laugh. She needs to leave before the authorities find her here, anyway.

She feels the heat of Mina’s gaze on her back as she dresses. Tries not to be tempted to fall back into bed with Mina. Nayeon has braved many seas, but Mina reduces her to a small, pathetic being. Like a sullen child being denied what she wants.

“Will you come back?” Mina asks, her voice tiny amidst the roaring of the open seas that’s found its way into the room.

There’s a flicker of resentment, because how dare she asks that of Nayeon. How dare she expects Nayeon to return just to cruelly part ways again. But Nayeon is too stubborn, and Mina, too set in her ways. What does a caged bird have to do with freedom, anyway?

Nayeon says, “Of course.”

“Come back alive. I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

Nayeon barks a laugh, and now that she’s fully-dressed, turns to kiss Mina goodbye. “I’ll try my best.”

She reaches over for Mina’s wrist, drags her thumb over the plum-coloured splotches she’d left there, and ties her bandana around the delicate joint. Out of greed, she kisses Mina’s wrist, over the cheap cloth. Mina brings her wrist to her mouth to kiss it, as well, where Nayeon has. Seals it like a promise. A gentleman’s handkerchief, if you’d like.

Yes, dating the Admiral’s daughter is also that – the goodbyes are more frequent, more bittersweet, more lasting, with empty promises of seeing each other again where no binding promises can be actually made, and Mina’s kisses.

Dating the Admiral’s daughter is a risky affair, and inevitably, she will be caught. But it all seems worth the life she’s gambled away already.

 


	2. jailbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more piratey content

**jailbird**  

There’s an incessant dripping in these damp cells that annoys Nayeon to no extent. It wears her patience thin, and she would pace if she could, but her knee’s acting up so all she can do is lie on her straw mattress and turn her back on the dripping. It smells of rot and human waste. It rises like foul steam from the floors. It must have killed Nayeon’s nose because she can hardly smell it anymore.

In the distance, she hears a wet, phlegmy cough and the rattling chink of chains. The roar of the ocean, churning and dark. Almost angry. She hears the scurry of small feet that can only be rats. The humid heat brings them out in search of relief, food. They nibble away at anything – be it food or flesh. Nayeon stirs uneasily in her cell, hopes that the rats will not find her in the dark.

Well, she thinks, it doesn’t much matter now. Come morning, she will be escorted to the gallows and hung.

She doesn’t cry; it’s been coming her way for a while now. She had wanted to die quickly, painlessly, and she supposes this will do. Still, her breath shudders and her shoulders begin to shake. She doesn’t make any other sound, much to the dissatisfaction of the Admiral, who had hoped she would at least squeak.

She hopes Momo and Sana won’t be stupid enough to come back for her, or pull some stunt that will earn them each a cell here. And Mina – oh, god, Mina – she hopes Mina won’t hear of her death. Faintly, she thinks that it must be nice to die looking into the eyes of your loved ones. Cradled warmly into the afterlife.

She doesn’t fear death. It’s always been a friend to her, and she always felt its cold breath down her neck for every slippery escape or near-encounter. She’s basically flirting with death at this point, a mistress to keep her bed warm. But death has always been keen and relentless and nipping at her heels.

She’s beginning to drift when she hears footsteps, urgent and hasty, approaching. She doesn’t bother to turn; probably just a change of guard. But it sounds nothing like the measured, heavy footfalls of a guard. In fact, it’s light and accompanied by a flurry of loose fabric.

She could also be hearing things. Jeongyeon told her about it – hallucinations. People see what they want to see in their dying hours. Kind of like a siren.

In her case, her siren happens to take the form of a girl, young and spry, with long brown hair and moonlight-glow on her skin. Interestingly, she’s wearing some sort of hooded cloak, which is not what Nayeon would have imagined her desired apparitions to be in. Less clothed, definitely.

Nayeon sits upright. Feels the bruises on her face more acutely when she squints at the girl, who also happens to look _exactly_ like Mina. Her face is lit whisky-red from the lantern she carries about her face and she is visibly flushed.

She sounds just like Mina, too. But it can’t be Mina; Mina’s married, last she heard, and shipped away to live with her husband elsewhere. It’s a sore topic – she’d rather not speak of it unless she’s drunk off her ass.

Nayeon’s mind must be going soft. How long more until she bursts out into song and starts doing somersaults? Maybe it’s best they kill her.

The apparition’s soft mouth opens to speak. “Nayeon? Is that you?”

Her whispers echo down the dimly-lit corridors. Someone groans, loud, and begs to die.

Nayeon frowns. Waits for a few seconds more to see if the ghost will go away, crumble into dust or something to that dramatic effect. But the Mina-lookalike doesn’t, and instead presses herself more insistently into the bars of the cell with little disregard for her safety (half the prisoners here are rabid dogs), calling desperately, “Nayeon? Please, are you there?”

Her voice is shaky with tears, on her metaphorical knees and close to losing hope. Nayeon’s heart goes to her, and hoarsely replies, “I’m here.”

The girl swings her lantern in Nayeon’s general direction. Nayeon cringes from the light. It spears, like sunlight glinting off metal, into Nayeon’s eyes and forces her to look away. She hears the girl gasp. Possibly at the pathetic state of her – her bare feet, her torn, bloodied tunic, her roughened-up face.

It makes Nayeon laugh. “That bad?”

“Your face,” the girl – ‘Mina’ – says, sticks her arm between the bars as though to reach for Nayeon. In the amber glow of the lantern, Nayeon sees the girl’s eyes harden. And she looks so much like one of those horrific, mythical gods Nayeon had read of in books. Angry and avenging. “They hurt you.”

“I’m a felon. What did you think they do to felons here?”

The girl says nothing, but her fingers strain to seek out Nayeon’s face. When Nayeon simply observes, noting that this girl seems a little more aged than Mina and she wears her hair different, the girl impatiently snaps, “Come _here_.”

It’s instinctive, when Nayeon snaps to attention and shuffles forward on blistered hands and feet. And it sounds so much like Mina that her heart aches. She will never be over Mina.

The girl puts down the lantern, uses both hands to gingerly cup Nayeon’s face. She thumbs Nayeon’s split lip. Frowns disapprovingly at Nayeon’s fevered skin.

There’s a brief twinge of pain. Nayeon doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want for the girl to go, but the pain is real and the girl’s hands are so, so warm and gentle. So, she swallows, looks at the girl’s – _Mina’s_ – face and croaks out: “Are you real?”

The girl laughs quietly and Nayeon feels the murmur of it all through the girl’s hands and to her face. “Yes, I’m real.”

Nayeon starts to laugh, but then suddenly, she’s crying. Mina’s here. Mina’s _here_. Nayeon grasps at her hands, turning her face into familiar palms and kissing at the skin there. Her breaths come fast and rough against Mina’s hand. “God. I missed you,” she blurts. “I love you and I missed you. But – what are you – I thought you’d gone! I thought you left.”

“I came back,” Mina says, easy at that. Of course, Nayeon thinks. Of course. “I heard that my father had finally caught the ‘pirate-bitch’.”

Which reminds Nayeon. “You can’t be here. The guards will catch you and your father will kill you if he knew. You have to go.”

And yet, Nayeon can’t seem to release Mina’s hands.

Mina says, “There are no guards. Sana and Momo got rid of them. The rest of your crew are preparing your ship for the getaway. They just need their captain.”

That explains a lot of things, actually. Like why there hasn’t been any patrolling guards or why Nayeon no longer hears their grumbled expletives and yelling.

“You…conspired with them?”

“Well,” Mina says, and starts to stand, taking the lantern with her. Nayeon feels at a loss without her touch instantly. “They want you out of here as badly as I do.”

Mina produces a key from the depths of her cloak. “Master-key,” she tells Nayeon and with a grin, admits, “Stole it from my father.”

Nayeon returns the grin in equal measure, accusing with a mock gasp, “ _Thief_.”

The effect of it is somewhat lost on her, what with the snotty nose and her bruised face, but Mina laughs all the same. The key takes some turning to work, and Mina wrestles with it for a bit, but eventually the door swings open with an unholy creak.

Mina’s first order of business is to get Nayeon to her feet. “Can you stand?”

Nayeon says yes, of course, but her knee, which is already weakened by an old injury, buckles under her weight and Mina rolls her eyes at her and catches her, steadies her against Mina’s side.

“You don’t waste any time, don’t you,” Nayeon wheezes, a little laugh tacked to the end. Her stamina’s never been great.

“There’ll be time for that later,” is what Mina tells her.

“Later?”

“Later,” Mina confirms.

Mina takes off her cloak, revealing a spare one underneath, and slips it over Nayeon’s shoulders, tucking hair underneath the hood.

“Keep your eyes on your feet,” Mina whispers, once they’re out on the streets. “Momo and Sana will meet us at the docks.”

Nayeon expects to be met with some resistance at the docks, because security tends to be tight there, especially at night. But Mina takes her past the main trading docks, where fleets of massive ships bob about on still waters, and up an unfamiliar slope to a restricted and well-concealed area of the shore.

“It’s a private dock,” Mina explains. “My father’s. He’s away at the moment so there’s nobody there.”

“I could kiss you.”

Mina smiles, suddenly coy, but repeats, “Later.”

Her vessel’s a welcome sight, and her crewmates waving their arms excitedly at her presence almost makes her weep. They rush to help her onboard, and bury her in a hug, including famously touch-repellent Jeongyeon (although that’s becoming less and less true nowadays). Momo is crying, Sana is kissing her cheeks. Jihyo is patting her back, and Chaeyoung is more than ready to fight off the navy by her lonesome with her newly-installed canons. Tzuyu, being Tzuyu, looks at Chaeyoung funny and warns her not to.

Dahyun says, “Welcome home, unnie.”

But then Nayeon remembers. She turns to see Mina standing at the docks, watching the whole reunion with wet, happy eyes. She stands like a proper lady, back straight, hands folded before her. Nayeon thinks she would make a fine addition to their little rag-tag family.

Nayeon limps to where Mina stands, holds out her hand for her to take. “Come on, let’s go.”

Everyone’s watching closely. The sky is starless and a bleak, blue dome, but expansive and limitless nonetheless. Mina considers her, a strange, soft look on her face.

“Run away with me, Mina,” says Nayeon.

Then Mina smiles. And Nayeon _knows_ that Mina will be the death of her. Mina takes Nayeon’s hand. “Okay.”

 


	3. this home i made for myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more piratey content

**this home i made for myself**

Outside, rain is falling. Pelting hard on the wooden decks. Thunder, grumbling in the far-off distance like some demon dog, pulls Mina from loose and formless sleep. Her eyes open to the sturdy redwood ceiling of Nayeon’s cabin, and Nayeon’s nonsensical sleep-murmurs against her neck. It’s warm in Nayeon’s cabin, almost too warm. Fortunately, Nayeon had kicked off the blankets, restless sleeper that she is.

It’s been several weeks since she’d agreed to come with Nayeon, and she had already learnt how to shoot a gun. There had been distractions, of course. Nayeon pressed to her back, throatily murmuring instructions into her ear could have never fared well in any circumstance.

(“You’re sexy with a gun,” Nayeon says, teasing gently at Mina’s earlobe with her teeth. Her hands snug at Mina’s waist. Mina’s knees feel weak.

“Do that again and I’ll shoot you with it.”)

In any case, she has adapted well to life at sea. She only got seasick once, and had to spend the entire day in Nayeon’s cabin afterward, but other than that, her body seems more accustomed to freedom than she prefers, if running away from naval ships and picking fights with other pirate ships can be called freedom.

Well, no one bothers her much aboard the ship. But there isn’t much to do either.

Nayeon and Jihyo, their trusty treasurer, goes through their logs and finances every other day. Dahyun keeps everything in tip-top condition. Jeongyeon, who is also their quartermaster, cooks and Momo…samples the cooking? She gives very constructive criticism, apparently. Sana keeps a lookout for potential threats, and Chaeyoung scours maps and skies to navigate their ship, steering when Nayeon is absent. They also have an adorable little chore-wheel (courtesy of Jeongyeon) that delegates the more menial chores such as ‘mopping duty’.

Jihyo is kind to her, bringing Mina books from their scant collection to read. Some of it are poorly-written smutty romance novels, written specifically with an idea in mind (i.e. sex), but some of it are travellers’ logs retrieved from fallen pirate foes or naval ships, documenting their ship’s passage. Those are far more interesting but also more difficult to read, given the water damage or in some journals, blood stains, that have rendered them effectively illegible. They are rarer, too. No one is particularly interested in knowing where a dead pirate’s been. Sometimes, Jihyo would get Mina to help with the accounting, which happens especially when the numbers don’t tally. Another time, she brings Mina some yarn and a pair of knitting needles, and sits alongside Mina to knit with her.

Chaeyoung’s taken a liking to her, too. And occasionally, Mina would try her hand at navigating the seas. Though that was quickly shut-down when Nayeon found Chaeyoung and her standing with their shoulders pressed closely together, and Chaeyoung’s hand over Mina’s as she’s pointing out the smattering of islands in the corner of the map.

(“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Nayeon says, surly and brooding in her ‘captain’s chair’. There’s nothing special about the chair, Jeongyeon tells her, just that it makes Nayeon feel like ‘a very big person in her very small ship’.

Mina straddles her laps, loops her arms around Nayeon’s neck. She laughs, “Your face disagrees.”

At Nayeon’s preserving silence, even as Mina begins to kiss her way up the column of Nayeon’s throat, she pulls away, disappointed. “Chaeyoung was just teaching me how to read maps.”

“Is she?” Nayeon says, scathingly. “What else did she teach you to read?”

“Don’t be vile.”

“But I am. I’m the vile pirate-captain Im Nayeon.”

“Oh god, get over yourself,” Mina says, rolling her eyes. She dismounts Nayeon’s laps, and leaves to spend the night in Sana’s hammock.

“Chaeyoung is just so effortlessly rakish that Nayeon unnie can’t help but be jealous,” Sana supplies, giggling like a schoolgirl madly in love.

But it’s a ship, and a relatively small one at that (what it lacks in size, it makes up for in speed), and there’s little else to go. So eventually, Nayeon gives her some baby’s breath flowers, preserved and dyed with light blue ink, the stems held together by one of Nayeon’s many patterned bandanas that are so precious so her.

“Chaeyoung gave these to me to give to you. I was being an idiot. I still am an idiot. But I’m _your_ idiot pirate-captain Im Nayeon, so will you please forgive me?”

Momo, who had been sitting next to Mina at the ship’s mess area, is red in the face with laughter. Jeongyeon has snorted out her food. Mina, smirking, accepts the flowers, and stands to kiss Nayeon on the cheek.

A little later, she asks, “Did Chaeyoung teach you to say that, too?”

Nayeon grumbles, blushing, “Yes.”)

Mina visits Dahyun in the underbellies of the ship. The girl is often absent, only appearing at lunch and dinner covered in grease and oil, and her hands are thoroughly nicked. Mina is curious and eager to learn, but finds the whole upkeeping of the ship’s maintenance dreary, and soon settles with just watching Dahyun tinker with the ship’s parts. Dahyun chitters like a bird. Like Sana, she’s good at keeping the conversation flowing. Unlike Sana, she laughs at appropriate junctures in their conversations.

“How did you meet Nayeon?” Mina asks, one day, handing her a sandwich Jeongyeon had made for the crew. The bread’s hard and stale, and the dried meat tough, but it keeps the belly full.

Dahyun wipes her fingers down her trousers, leaving fingermarks, and accepts the sandwich with a grin. “She picked me up from the streets. Funny story, actually, I picked her pocket and she chased me down. Thought she was going to hand me to the authorities and have my hand cut off and be done with it. But she brought me to her ship and said that it was broken. She said she was not going to pay any money to get it fixed and that I owe her for trying to rob her.”

“How old were you?”

Dahyun thinks on it for a moment. Bites thoughtfully at the sandwich. “I think I was…fifteen? I’m good with my fingers, see, and I know my way around a ship, so she ‘employed’ me.”

“You’ve been here ever since?”

“Never left,” Dahyun says, almost proudly. “Where would I have to go? Nayeon unnie takes care of us, here.”

Mina smiles, “Right.”

On warm, cloudless days, when the wind stirs the surface of the sea and strains against the masts, Mina finds Sana at the docks, seated at the edge with her legs swinging off the side of the ship, a rustic seeing-glass in her hands. Sana’s hair is done up, with a bandana fashioned into a headband, tied with a bow at the top of her head. Like a gift. In many ways, Sana _is_ one. She’s the heart of their little patchwork family, keeps everyone in good spirits. But Sana’s not immune to sadness, either. She just chooses to invest more in happiness.

Mina has seen Sana sitting on the port-side of the main deck alone at night, drenched in silver moonglow, watching the waters lap at the sides of the ship. The tarry night falls around her like curtains. Mina will join her, sitting next to her silently. Sometimes, Mina thinks, it’s better not to talk. Sana seems to appreciate this sentiment and leans her head onto Mina’s shoulder.

“Do you know any songs?” she’ll ask, some time later.

“Songs?”

“Yeah, you must know some.”

“I guess so.”

“Can you sing one to me?”

“Well, I don’t think my voice is any good,” Mina admits, self-conscious.

Mina can hear the smile in Sana’s voice. “Liar. I hear you singing sometimes. You have a very nice voice, Minari.”

“Fine,” Mina acquiesces, “but if you laugh at me, I’ll throw you off this ship.”

Sana laughs, “Okay, deal.”

Mina’s not sure what Sana’s looking for, who or what land she misses, but she hopes Sana will be happy. Truly happy.

Momo and Jeongyeon bicker ceaselessly, and sometimes this will erupt in fist-fights that Jihyo will have to break up. Jeongyeon takes some time to warm up to Mina’s presence, and soon, Mina’s name is added to the chore-wheel. After that, she will casually fling her arm around Mina’s shoulders, (Nayeon would eye her all the way from across the deck) and will call Mina to her defence in her daily arguments with Momo.

But Mina also sees Jeongyeon tucking Momo into bed when the thunderstorms grow fiercer, and threatens to drown their vessel in the very waters they call home, hushing her and assuring her that everything will be fine. The sun will rise and the tides will weaken. She’s seen Jeongyeon comfort a distressed Jihyo when one of their accounting logs went missing, help read through Chaeyoung’s poetry, include Tzuyu in their lively conversations. And while it’s Nayeon’s job to keep everyone alive, it’s Jeongyeon’s to ensure no one gets left behind.

Once, Mina had walked into Jeongyeon helping a very drowsy Nayeon up from her desk and to her bed.

“Shh,” she says, to Mina, “she fell asleep.”

Mina watches, as Jeongyeon puts Nayeon to bed, and catches Jeongyeon’s wrist on her way out. “Thank you. You take good care of her.”

“She takes care of all of us,” Jeongyeon shrugs, still uncomfortable with showy displays of affection. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You know, you take care of everyone, too.”

Jeongyeon smiles at her. “Are we going to stand here accusing each other of taking care of other people?”

“No,” Mina squeezes Jeongyeon wrist once, then releases her. “Let’s not.”

“Yes, let’s not,” Jeongyeon agrees. “Goodnight, Mina.”

“Goodnight, Jeongyeon.”

Mina wonders how Nayeon had earned Jeongyeon’s allegiance. It couldn’t have been an easy thing to do. But very worthwhile, indeed.

Momo, not unlike Jeongyeon, is exceedingly loyal. Mina’s not ignorant to Momo’s particular skill-set, she’s heard hushed stories about it. How Momo, in a tussle, is utterly beautiful as she is lethal. How brutal, how effective, so much so that it’s become something of an esteemed art form.

“Does it bother you?” Mina asks her.

Momo hums, “What does?”

“That you’re so good at what you do?”

Momo is masterfully shuffling a deck of playing cards in her hands. She takes her time answering the question, and Mina thinks she may not answer when she finally replies, “Sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if all I’m good at is killing people. But I also wonder if that means I’m just really good at protecting my family and the ones I love.”

“I understand,” Mina says.

“So, you see,” Momo says, smiling as she performs a party trick with the cards. “I can make my peace with that.”

Tzuyu is a rare creature to chance upon on the ship. Mina doesn’t see her often, either. Upon asking Sana, who happens to know _everyone’s_ present-time whereabouts on the ship, Sana says, “She likes to be left alone. Apparently, we lot are too noisy for her.”

“Is she always like that?”

Sana laughs and pats Mina’s back. “Oh, don’t let her scare you. She’s a big softie. She’s just having a hard time adjusting.”

“Oh.” Mina can relate. “I didn’t know she’s new here, too.”

“Not by a mile. She’s just – she was found on a slaver’s ship. And those kinds of things will always leave scars, deep inside. She’s mending, but only just. She’ll come out when she wants to.”

Mina also learns that Tzuyu is their resident sharp-shooter, though their supply of rifle ammunition is whatever they have managed to forage from wrecked naval ships and thus have little of. Mina watches, riveted, as Tzuyu works the rubber-band slingshot with impressive accuracy. The rubber-band is let loose through the air with a _whip!_

It smacks Dahyun right in the forehead, and the girl staggers. Tzuyu proceeds to take cover behind a raised platform, watching Dahyun complain aloud, swearing tearfully to find whoever who did this. There’s a prominent red mark on Dahyun’s forehead that’s well-deserving of anyone’s pity. Must have hurt.

Mina sees scars on Tzuyu’s arms, gnarled like ripples on water, but prefers to look past that. Tzuyu looks at her, brow raised, and Mina simply smiles back. Eventually, Tzuyu smiles back at her as well.

And then there is Nayeon. Stupidly brave and bravely stupid. She studies Nayeon formulate a battle strategy against some raider pirates they have decided to corner against some sheer rock formations, using small wooden toy soldiers – painted red and blue by Chaeyoung – as markers on the map. Jihyo listens closely, adding improvements to the plan once in a while, while Jeongyeon points out the flaws in her plan, stating the potential to be breached or invaded. Tzuyu says little else, but her eyes betray a certain violence. Chaeyoung is battle-ready, complete with face-paint. Sana and Momo hold hands, looking equally stern. The overall mood is grim and serious, and it has Mina worried.

Finally, after having listened and considered all other member’s opinions, Nayeon, her hands smelling of gunpowder and ink, turns to Mina. Asks, “What do you think?”

“Me?”

“Yes. I want to know what you think.”

Mina, uncertainly, steps up to the table. Nayeon’s looking at with something of a smile on her face, and given these dire circumstances, it definitely counts as one.

What little Mina knows of strategy comes from playing chess with her ladies-in-waiting and sometimes, if time allows, with her father. Her father is a worthy opponent, of course, having defeated her on multiple occasions. The first time she bested her father, he had given her a very formal handshake and congratulated her.

Mina shifts the toy soldiers around, “I think we have a better chance of flanking them like this.”

Nayeon’s still staring at her when she shrinks away from the table. There’s adoration there, and something else, too. Something Mina will not read into at the moment, for the sake of everyone else present in the cabin.

“Yes,” Jihyo’s nodding. “I think that makes more sense.”

Jeongyeon seems to agree, as well, given her lack of comment and the faintly impressed look on her face. Chaeyoung helpfully remarks that their cannons will have a better vantage point.

Nayeon regards the alternative pensively. Then she says, in the best ‘captain’ voice she can muster, “Alright. We’ll go with Mina’s plan. I want everyone rested and ready by dawn.”

Mina thinks her knees might give, so she sits on the edge of Nayeon’s cot. Her hands shake, so she grips at the wooden frame. It’s not until everyone simmers down and leaves the cabin that Nayeon stands before her. Her eyes are alive, restive, and Mina fears for her most.

“Are you okay?” Nayeon asks, gently, in the intimate privacy of her – their – cabin. Too gentle for Nayeon’s unquiet eyes and the voracity it belies.

“I –” she swallows tears and bile. “I don’t know what I’d just done. I think I may have killed you all.”

“It’s a good plan,” Nayeon assures her. “Everyone thinks so, too.”

“I know, but, Nayeon, what if I’m wrong? If anything happens, it’ll be my fault.”

Mina bows her head, and begins to cry. But then Nayeon drops to her knees and pries Mina’s hands from the cot, and suddenly it feels like Mina’s back in her old room, with Nayeon’s head in her laps, and they are stealing chances at forbidden romances, bold plans of eloping, daring escapes. Nayeon brushes Mina’s hair back, tries to see the sticky mess of tears that Mina has dissolved into. Touches the bandana – Nayeon’s – tied around Mina’s wrist, now a permanent fixture.

“You know, you agreed to come with me,” Nayeon tells her, so softly it makes Mina cry some more. “Just like everyone on this ship. Maybe I’m pushy and bossy, but you _stayed_ , too, like everyone else on this ship. And maybe it’s because we have no place else to go, but I choose to believe that we stay because we’re family. I mean, aren’t we? We’re a family of our own making, our own choice. So _if_ anything happens, it will not, and it will never be your fault. We’ve made a choice to stay for each other. That means we’ve chosen to die for each other, too.”

Mina doesn’t say anything, hiccups instead. Nayeon laughs and surges forward to kiss Mina wholly on the lips, breathing her in. The prospect of death tends to make the living feel so alive. Another day, Nayeon may be fine with greeting death if time calls for it, but today, she shuns death. She has something so much better to live for, anyway.

“Alright?” she asks.

Mina nods against her.

“Besides,” she feels Nayeon grin, feels the charming set of bunny teeth pressed to her lips, “we have a new strategist. I think I like our chances.”

 


End file.
